Susan, Susan
by LovingSladeAlways
Summary: My own characters and my own short story. A group of guys are up to no good, and an innocent girl recieves all the torture. She is "pounded" in several senses of the word  ohoho, dark humor . Warning for language and RAPE, ahem, I meant to say rape.


**These are my characters, so back the fuck up. Lazy squatters! Anywho, this has some dark rapey stuff. Don't like, don't read. Though there isn't much detail into the rape. But if enough people prompt me… well, let's just say I **_**can **_**be bribed. Also, this is my fourth post today. BOOYA! My personal best in like ever! Enjoy!**

The boys wandered through the mall, their baggy jeans weighing them down, and their grungy jackets loosely clinging to their mid sections. Most of them had shaggy hair. Most looked like they hadn't showered in a couple days. They probably didn't think to with what they planned on doing for the past couple weeks.

They had just past the food court when the runt of the group spoke up. What was that kids name again? Oh, who gives a shit about him anyways? "So, are we really going to ambush Susan today? Like… _everything_ we had planned?"

His face was blank, but his twitching arm and shaky hand showed the _true_ cards he had hidden in his palm. The others shushed him, their ears either going red or their cheeks paling. The leader, Blake, rolled his eyes. He shook his black bangs out of his face. He spit into a trash can they passed on their way out of the mall. He was always annoyed by that fag hole. That place was fucked up. They called them fucked up. But no, take a look at all the fakes hanging there.

"How about you shut your mouth. No, don't try and make an excuse. If you wanted to complain this _whole_ time or whine like a _bitch_—this goes to _any_ of you—then you shouldn't have said _shit_," Blake snarled. He lit up a cigarette. The flame glowed in the evening air. Smoke furled though his nose and out the corners of his mouth. Combine that image with the red glow of his cigarette, and he looked similar to the devil taking a twilight wander. But Blake knew when to hide his horns.

A stout boy talked in a loud bark, almost too loud for Blake's comfort. The boy, Benny, spoke with a heavy Jersey accent, "Yo, boss! When the hell is this goin' down, 'cause I—I, uh, gotta get to dinner an' all that shit."

Blake snapped his head back to look at Benny. He stopped walking. He poked Benny's chest hard, jabbing at the ribs over his heart. "Tonight. Tonight that bitch gets what she gets."

No one really knew why she deserved it. She was pretty average actually. She had long blonde hair, blue eyes, and was real popular with the school they all attended. She was never mean to the boys. Never once even said a word to them or about them. But maybe that was just it. She acted like they didn't exist.

Benny had to bow out because his mom kept badgering him to hurry up over his cell phone. It might've been the only day in his life that his mom did good for him. Blake resumed leading his pack of blood thirsty wolves to their prey. They licked their chops, and pawed at each other in anticipation. Blake leaned his head back and howled with laughter, his canines glittering in the moonlight. Some might even say he was handsome when he smiled. Though when he smiled for his mug shot...well, it just feels different.

There were five of them, all ranging from 5 foot to 6 foot. The girl was in between. She was actually honored for her athletics at school, but so were Ray and Charles, the two linebackers hanging with the boys that evening. Their goonish expressions matched the cruelty showing through their smirks.

Blake leaned against a tree on the outskirts of the baseball field. He blew smoke up into the air, hating how it reminded him of his father and how he used to do that in his recliner. That fat asshole. Maybe getting washed up like him would make him proud. But Blake knew he could do better than his old man. Proving himself to his father wasn't his top priority, no matter how much his mom begged for it to be when he was later put on trial. His reasons? Who's to really know what a psychopath is thinking?

Blake sneered at the group and growled, "So, Graham, what's the deal, man? Where is she?"

Graham was the uneasiest of them all. He had only mentioned the girl once and how he knew she ran through the park every night. He hung around here with some other hoodlums and had seen her. He never intended for this… "She, um, will be through here soon. Yeah, well—listen, Blake. Should we really…"

Graham trailed off, his voice sticking in his windpipe. The glare that Blake sent at him made his whole spine quake. He jerkily nodded, not saying another word. Blake turned his narrowed eyes on the pale figure coming into focus. Graham had been describing just last week how she made herself laugh by running around all the bases, her arms raised up high in a mock victory lap. Graham became more anxious. Blake just cocked his head, ignoring the others, wondering how she would taste.

"Let's go," Blake whispered.

They all sauntered out of the woods together. The girl immediately stopped dead. She had just rounded third, and had stopped, awkwardly holding her arm at the spectacle of all these pale boys flittering out of the trees.

"C-can I help you?" She called out nervously.

As soon as Ray and Charles took off, she spun around and began sprinting. Unfortunately for her, she never made it past third base. Ray and Charles struggled with holding her down, and then lifted her up, all her extremities trapped in their meaty grips. They hauled her to the pitcher's mound, and laid her back down. Then they all converged on her.

She twisted and turned, but they kept groping at her arms, thighs, and breasts, so each struggling move wrenched her body parts away from her torso. She screamed and shrieked until Ray finally punched her in the jaw. He didn't break her jaw, but _shit_, he really caused some damage. She had bitten straight through her tongue, probably gagging on a piece of it she accidently swallowed. However, she could've just been choking on all the blood that swiftly poured down her throat.

Blake sauntered up last, coming up on her right side as Ray held down her legs, and Charles held her arms. She stared wide-eyed at Blake. Blake just smirked down at her, a hollowness that couldn't be filled shining in his eyes. He had tried everything, but maybe this would be the thing that would finally feel right.

He took a languid inhale of his cigarette and bent over, putting it out by pressing the burning tip into her stomach. She screamed, or gurgled, through the blood. He squatted next to her, tutting his disapproval.

"Susan, Susan. You really shouldn't struggle. This hurts you a lot more than it hurts me, but I will do my best to feel _every stroke _with you."

Susan's struggles renewed, but it was no use. Graham stood back a little as the others began shredding her clothes off, laughing at her. Ray and Charles were awful, saying the nastiest insults they could think of while pinching and squeezing the corresponding body part. The little fuck grabbed at her hair and pulled and ripped at her earrings, but he didn't really try to touch her.

Blake was the worst. He kicked and punched and battered her beyond recognition; his foreplay. Then he thrust and prodded and mutilated her internally until the only thing that came out of her body was blood. Not tears. Not screams. He got off on her pain. His smile could pass him off as a normal happy adolescent if they were in any other appropriate situation. But the blood that spattered his face and matted his hair kind of ruined it, making a grotesque, unrecognizable version of Blake. If anyone saw this sadist come out of his shell before, then I feel sorry for them.

Graham turned and ran. The runt left with her panties. Ray and Charles fought over her bra, but Ray won, since he was always the better tackler. Charles ended up with the girl's running shorts. Blake took her tank and wiped his face off on it. It only smeared the blood around, since the cloth was soaked through with it as well. He tore off a necklace she had had worn. She wouldn't miss it.

It was almost pure gold, with a heart locket charm hanging from it. Inside was a picture of her mom and dad cuddling, and another of her sister curled up with a book. Blood had seeped into the edges of the miniscule photos, but it was obvious what was on them. Blake had no clue that this would be the clue to give him away to the cops. On the other hand, maybe he did. But he took it anyways, wrapping it up in Susan's top.

He pulled up his pants, buckling the belt that he had used just a moment ago to whip her ass raw. He had a bloody image in his mind of exactly how it was going to go down before he had even begun. To say the least, the plan was executed perfectly. Just one thing, though… he slammed his heel down onto her left eye socket. The eyeball oozed onto the bottom of his shoe, blood squirting up onto his jean leg. He frowned; I mean, _come on_, they had been the one thing that hadn't gotten the full brunt of the blood splatter. Oh well.

Blake walked away, the tank stuffed into his jean pocket. He shrugged on his jacket, the chill tickling his skin. He looked back once to see the naked, ripped up body of Susan, half of her faced caved in on itself… he smiled.

**This is a story for my bud, Ethan. This was initially a joke… er, you had to have been there. He was telling me that when he and his buddies are at the mall, they joke and try and freak people out by saying weird shit like "so we're really going to rape Susan tonight?"And viola, a star is born. So here you go peeps—or is it creeps? Enjoy, or cry, or whatever people do when they read weird shit like this. REVIEW! **

**L.S.A.**


End file.
